


And No More Shall We Part

by coloursflyaway



Category: Marvel Avengers Movies RPF, Thor (Movies) RPF
Genre: Basically, M/M, Scarlett helping out their boys, idk this is a bit strange because it's from Scarlett's POV, making sure that they're happy and in love and all that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-04
Updated: 2013-07-04
Packaged: 2017-12-17 17:24:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/870075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coloursflyaway/pseuds/coloursflyaway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris Hemsworth has always worn his heart on his sleeve. There is nothing false about him, nothing he holds back or hides, no lies or masks he wears, and maybe it’s what makes him so vulnerable what makes him so special as well. And it’s just what makes it so easy to notice, makes it almost impossible not to, until everyone knows or at least believes to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And No More Shall We Part

Chris Hemsworth has always worn his heart on his sleeve. There is nothing false about him, nothing he holds back or hides, no lies or masks he wears, and maybe it’s what makes him so vulnerable what makes him so special as well. And it’s just what makes it so easy to notice, makes it almost impossible not to, until everyone knows or at least believes to.

In the end, it’s Scarlett who takes that last step.  
“You really love him, don’t you?”, she asks as she watches Tom walk away, coat billowing behind him. She gives Chris another few moments to let that too bright, too fond smile fade which she has started to associate with Tom and Tom alone, but when she turns around, it’s still there, stretching full lips and even she has to admit that it looks as if belongs on Chris’ face (and it’s hard to deny that somewhere deep within her, she wishes someone would smile like this at her). Chris Hemsworth has always worn his heart on his sleeve and apparently he isn’t stopping now.  
“Of course I do”, he answers and it should startle her, Scarlett think to herself, because it’s such a huge thing to admit to, but somehow there is nothing but a slight hint of sympathy along the soft ache in her chest. Maybe, admitting is not a huge thing to do for Chris at all.  
“He knows.” It’s not a question but a statement because she can see it in Tom’s eyes whenever Chris hands him his water bottle before taking a sip himself (which Tom accepts and declines with a system Scarlett has not yet understood) or when the Australian lingers after wrapping up a shoot himself, to either watch him or wait so they can leave the set together.  
“He does.” Again, there is no surprise welling up in her chest, only a different kind of ache because it’s as beautiful as it’s simple and there is nothing left to be said.  
Beside her, Chris waits until Tom has climbed into the car waiting for him and then turns, the smile still on his lips. Where it belongs.

A month from then, it’s grown so normal, that she sometimes forgets for a day or two, only to be reminded twice as hard because Chris’s smile falters for a moment when Tom tells him off in the kindest, most polite way possible, and Scarlett has to give not her all to walk up to the tall, blonde man who could easily snap her in two if he tried, and pull him into a hug. She can’t blame Tom, not really, but it does not change a thing.  
Maybe this is why they play together so well as Thor and Loki, she muses one day when walking back to her trailer in full costume, a short, blissful break. Because Chris knows what it is like to give without expecting back a thing (and still, at least she believes, hoping for at least a sign) and Tom knows how it feels to be showered in affection he does not know the reason for.  
But no matter if the sight of Chris looking nothing less than heartbroken kills her a little, Tom makes up for whatever pain he has caused every time, takes the other out to have a few drinks after shooting, goes out to get them lunch with a small cup of pudding to share or just smiles at Chris as if he was the most important thing in the world and Scarlett doesn’t doubt for one second that in this moment, Chris is just that.

 

For a long time, nothing changes. Chris is in love and Tom isn’t and yet it is hard to see one without the other more than five steps away and no one minds. If anything, they all grow fond of not only the two men, but also of the relationship between them. It’s a reminder somehow, to all of them who have someone waiting for them at home, that even if they feel alone from time to time, there is a person to come home to one day. And as the weeks pass, it becomes not only Chris’, but all their secret to protect from press and photographs and the occasional interviewer.  
Not that Chris would need the help, for as soon as someone from outside sets a foot on the set, his smile dims and his hands stay at his sides (even if it’s not only Scarlett who notices that his fingers are curled to fists more often than not), he’s friendly and jokes around with Tom, but even if his eyes sometimes linger a little too long, or his arm stays around the other’s shoulder even after the picture is taken, it is never enough to raise anyone’s eye. But still, it’s like an unspoken rule that Robert scoffs and throws in a snide remark as soon as anyone asks a question which hits only a little too close, or that Jeremy and Mark chime in unbidden to divert attention from where it is not needed. And it works and everything is just so good that Scarlett knows that it’s got to end. 

  
When it does end, it gets better. In Scarlett’s mind, it’s a mystery how it could happen and yet there is no denying it. Of course, she could all blame it on the fact that after being colleagues for so long, they are becoming friends, but it’d be only half of the truth. The whole one would be that it’s Chris, or to be more exact, Chris and Tom together. If the Brit was kind and friendly and a hundred different things before, he now almost lavishes Chris with attention. It’s not only shared lunches, or little smiles during breaks, or even long hours spent together reciting lines, it’s the movie nights which lead Scarlett (and the rest of them) to hope.   
Were it anyone else, she wouldn’t blink an eye, but there is something special about these –does she dare and call it dates?- which feels like _more_. And by the gods, she hopes.

Even if she and Tom will always have Billie Jean, and even if she adores the Brit with his endless politeness, humility, his enthusiasm for the smallest things, it’s Chris she has become closer in these last few weeks. Chris, who is confident without needing to be the centre of attention all the time, who can laugh and joke and stay silent and listen, who believes his own nature to be simple while he is still one of the people she has not yet figured out. And Chris needs this, Scarlett knows that, because no matter how patient and sweet and unobtrusive he is, there has to be so much longing  hidden those blue eyes which shine with love every time Tom does as much as look at him, that it takes her breath away when she thinks of it.  
And with Tom acting like this, she can almost watch Chris glowing more with every glance and second and touch until he’s so shining so brightly it almost hurts to look at him.  
Scarlett lets herself be fooled into thinking that maybe, just maybe, it is going to stay that way, maybe she won’t look up from her script to see Chris looking at Tom from across the room, completely lost in thought and maybe she won’t have to witness him losing the glow which fits him so well.

  
  
But then everything changes again, only that this time, it is not for the better but the worse. In hindsight, Scarlett thinks she should have known, but even if she had, it wouldn’t have helped a thing. The change is a sudden one, and one which none of them could have anticipated; so when Chris appears on set a few minutes later than he should have with his lips drawn tight, dark rings under red-rimmed eyes, no one knows what to do. They’ve never seen the Australian like this, cold and distant and the intensity of the change is frightening.  
Usually, it would be Tom who’d go and talk to Chris, whenever he needed cheering up, but it’s obvious that this time, it’s Tom who’s the reason for all this.  
And Scarlett knows she shouldn’t meddle, because it’s not her business, but somehow it is, somehow it concerns all of them, because without them, without Chris’ easy smiles and Tom’s gentle kindness, she doesn’t know if they won’t all fall apart. As a team, as a cast, as friends.

She finds Tom in his trailer, on his sofa and with a blank look in his eyes he can’t hide fast enough and although Scarlett knows he should be mad at him for wiping that smile off Chris’ face, for hurting him like this, she finds that she can’t.  
Of course it’s Chris’ heart which has been broken, but that doesn’t mean that Tom looks any better, any less hollowed out by whatever has happened between the two of them, and it’s only now that she realises that, although Chris has lost the person he loves, Tom has lost a friend.  
“Hi”, she greets and Tom smiles back weakly. She’s sure that he is trying to hide it, how much this affects him too, because anything else would be so unlike Tom that it’s unthinkable, but he fails nonetheless, and the extent of it is as frightening as it can be. Because Tom is a great actor, who should be able to at least almost fool her, and right now, all she can do is to keep herself from pulling the man into her arms and tell him it will somehow be alright again.

“Hey. How are you?”, comes the reply a little too late, and for a moment, Scarlett can see what made Chris fall so hard for the man in front of her.  Because Tom _cares_ , doesn’t ask about her state of mind to stall or in the hope of making her forget why she is here (since they both know it, Scarlett can see it in the other’s eyes), but because he wants to know.  
“Okay”, she replies and walks over to sit down next to him, their knees almost touching, but not quite. “What happened?”

Tom’s eyes go soft, go sad and Scarlett wants to say something, but can’t find the right words.  
“I couldn’t…”, Tom starts after a few moments have passed, his voice trailing off as he runs a hand through his hair, looking for words which Scarlett knows will be hard to find. “I couldn’t lie to him any longer.”  
Tom believes them to be true, the words falling from his lips, that much is clear, but it doesn’t mean that Scarlett does the same, because she’s seen it, they all have, that Tom wasn’t lying, that he was just telling a different truth which neither of them wanted to see.  
“Were you lying?”, she prompts, because she doesn’t want to leave without at least making Tom think again. “I thought you guys were friends.”

It’s incredible to watch just how quickly Tom’s expression changes, how the sadness turns to confusion, to shock until Scarlett could swear that the other is at least slightly offended.  
“Of course we are. Were. I don’t know.”  
It isn’t much, and it surely isn’t what Scarlett would want to hear, but it might just be enough, so she smiles at Tom, gets up.  
“Then I don’t see how you have been lying.” Scarlett doesn’t give Tom time to answer, just turns and leaves, because as much as she would like it, it’s not up to her. Not this time.

  
If her words are working away at Tom, like Scarlett hopes they are, she doesn’t know, but what she does know is that for three weeks, nothing changes. It’s painful to watch for them, excruciating even, because Chris still stays behind after takes and watches Tom for a moment or two, but declines every offer of going out with a small shake of his head and a smile which doesn’t reach his formerly bright eyes; because of the glances Tom shoots in Chris’ direction and ever so often catches his gaze for a moment or two before one of them looks away, because of the way he somehow spaces out during breaks, as if, without Chris constantly around him, there was nothing here anymore to ground him.  
It’s painful to watch and yet none of them can look away.

Jeremy tries to drag them to a bar with a couple of stuntmen and the make-up department, hoping that alcohol and music will help, but the evening is a disaster, awkward and quiet, because no one knows what to say.  
Robert goes out of his way to make sure that they’re always seated next to each other at meetings, but if anything, it makes it worse, reminding them all of how wrong everything feels.  
In the end, the boys (because they are just that in Scarlett’s mind) decide it’s her who should talk to them, because she started talking to Chris about all of this in the first place, so maybe, just maybe, she can fix whatever it exactly is they have broken between them.

She doesn’t have to, though, or at least doesn’t have to go and start a conversation, because it’s only two days later, almost four weeks since everything went to hell, that there is a knock on the door of her hotel room, soft and polite and meant not to wake her, should she already be asleep.  
Scarlett knows who it is before even opening the door, her heart fluttering with possibilities and hope and the tiniest hint of optimism, because if Tom is here this late, after a day of throwing himself on the floor repeatedly, it’s got to be something important.  
“Hello”, Tom greets when she lets him in, smiling faintly and apologetically. “I’m sorry, I know it’s late, but I thought…”  
Scarlett nods before he can even finish the sentence, and the smile on Tom’s thin, pale lips turns into a grateful one.

“So shoot”, she says once they are both seated, her on the bed and Tom on one of the chairs, looking more than just uncomfortable. She knows what he is going to say, or at least thinks she does, but she still wants to hear him say it, even if mostly because she is rather certain that it will be the first time Tom says those words and not just thinks them.

“Do you think there is any way I can fix this?”, Tom asks, and sounds so uncertain, so vulnerable and hopeful that for  one moment, Scarlett doesn’t know what to say.  
“That depends”, she answers though, when she finds her voice, her words again, “On what exactly it is you want to fix. Your friendship or whatever else there was.”  
There is a pause, most likely because it’s an answer which is hard to give, but after those four, torturous weeks, Scarlett is more than willing to wait a little longer.  
It takes a few more seconds in which Tom fiddles with the hem of his shirt before looking up at her again.  
“Us.”

 

It’s two days later, and the birthday of someone Scarlett has met and talked to but forgotten again (which would make her feel terrible if not for the anticipation settled in her chest, her stomach, which has been growing ever since Tom has stood in front of her door that night) and Chris is right beside her, looking and probably feeling lost in the middle of the celebrations. Scarlett is still in awe how her boys have managed to drag the other here, but she doesn’t question it, or the threats and/or promises they used, because in the end, she is sure it will be worth it.  
Since Tom is here too, only a few metres away, and from the corner of her eye, she can see how Chris’ gaze lingers on the other man longer and longer every time he looks at him.  
It would be endearing, if it wasn’t so heart-breaking.  

“Y’know, Scarlett, I think I’ll be off”, Chris mumbles into his drink half an hour later, and Scarlett isn’t surprised, but that doesn’t mean she’ll allow this to happen. Not today, not _now_.  
“Just a little longer, okay?”, she asks and turns around, her most charming smile curling her red lips. “Let me finish my drink and I’ll tag along, I need to get up early tomorrow anyway. Okay?”  
Chris doesn’t want to, she knows that, but still nods, takes another sip of his beer, while Scarlett catches Tom’s gaze across the room.

“Hi.”  
Scarlett looks up and Chris almost chokes on the air he is breathing as he turns around, because Tom is standing right in front of them, fingers clutching his glass a little too tightly. He’s nervous, and Scarlett wishes she could tell him that he doesn’t have to be, because Chris is still as much in love with him as he was a month ago.  
“…hey”, the other answers, and Scarlett stays silent, because this isn’t her conversation, not her moment, and although she knows she should leave, she doesn’t.  
“I just wanted to - to apologise, I guess”, Tom continues, with a slightly shaky, hopeful voice, trying to somehow sound as if everything was alright, but fails, and Scarlett can’t help but think that it’s good he does, because like this, Chris might even believe him. “For what happened. I shouldn’t have-“  
“It’s okay”, Chris interrupts, but doesn’t look at Tom anymore, instead keeps his eyes on his hands, which are holding his own glass as tightly as Tom holds his. “I shouldn’t have. I mean, after all, I can’t really expect you… it’s no wonder you got ann-“

This time, it’s Chris who cannot finish his sentence, but Scarlett doubts he minds, because Tom has stepped closer, so close that she is sure Chris can feel the other’s breath on his cheeks. It’s so tentative, all of it, maybe because of the month they have spent as much apart as possible, maybe because they both don’t really know what to do, but it makes it even more beautiful, because it’s more _them_ than any perfectly planned out scene could ever be.  
Tom raises his hand, just holds it there, in mid-space between them for a moment, as if he was expecting to be pushed away, before reaching out to cup Chris’ face, his thumb stroking over the high cheekbone, the stubble, and although Scarlett can’t hear it, she just knows that Chris’ breath has hitched in his throat.

She doesn’t understand what Tom says next, because the song changes, because Tom whispers, and although Scarlett would like to know, it’s better this way. And it doesn’t matter that much anyway, because she sees what happens, how Chris’ eyes widen slightly and Tom licks his lips as if he was waiting for an answer, which in the end, comes in form of a kiss.  
It’s neither sweet nor passionate, gentle maybe, but more of a promise than anything else. And it only lasts a second before Chris pulls away again, still staying close, and Tom nods even while a smile spreads across his face and Scarlett can see how Chris is starting to glow again when he leans in once more, kisses the other properly this time, strong arms winding around Tom’s waist.

 

When Scarlett looks back at them a few minutes later, they have hardly even moved, lips varying between whispering words and kissing, and she smiles at the pair of them, although she knows they can’t see. Because they’re glowing now, both of them, and Scarlett can feel the familiar, sweet ache returning to her chest, since this is something special, something new and wonderful and something which is worth every risk, every sorrow which has accompanied its birth, and for once, watching them from afar is more than enough.

 

**Author's Note:**

> In case you want to say hi, send me a prompt, or tell me something nice, you can find me on Tumblr here:  
> [X](http://www.coloursflyaway.tumblr.com)


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